We stopped for a moment to watch it, and almost immediately it was turned out. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. “Dinner is served, ma’am,” he announced to Mrs. “Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II. ” “You gave it him well.
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